


The Long Victory

by Riddlebird-puff (hobbitpuff)



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Future, Flashbacks, Future Fic, M/M, Minor Character Death, Murder Mystery, Past Relationship(s)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-06
Updated: 2019-01-21
Packaged: 2019-10-04 18:17:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,386
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17309516
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hobbitpuff/pseuds/Riddlebird-puff
Summary: Gobblepot - Long Halloween / Dark Victory AU, each month someone is sending Jim Gordon a holiday card with a provocative photo of the good Commissioner and the Penguin of Gotham, and leaving a murdered D list rogue behind.Includes flashbacks of Jim/Oswald throughout the years to present. Some past Nygmobblepot, Jim pov, written prior to S5 end, not canon compliant, AU Canon Divergence. Rated M for descriptions of violence and sexual content.Fic in progress - tags will be updated





	1. January

**Author's Note:**

> Note: Written before S5 premiere 
> 
> This fic is inspired by The Long Halloween and Dark Victory comics however it is not a retelling.
> 
> All rogues killed in this fic are comic canon characters (I avoided using Gotham characters for my victims) and I apologize if I killed off anyone's favorites. I have not marked MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH because no main character dies and the killed characters are not introduced. But there are deaths! 11 to be exact!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic is an AU of canonical events. One of the biggest changes I've made is the Mob Families are still a power in Gotham. Although, Oswald is the Godfather (of sorts) in Gotham.

December 31, January 1 New Year's

Jim Gordon picked up the mail left on his desk. It was mostly junk, a few envelopes addressed to the Batman, and the rest looked to be Christmas cards that had not been delivered in time but one caught his eye.

If asked what had separated this envelope from the stack he could not have said. The envelope itself was plain white and clean, the print on the front was small and neat. Perhaps it was the way it was addressed to ‘James W Gordon of GCPD’, no one had called him James in years except for Oswald Cobblepot. Or maybe because there was a postage stamp in the corner that had not been marked by the post office.

He picked it up and weighed it with his hand, it was no heavier than any other Christmas card. He sniffed at the seal on the back, there was no strange odor emitting from the envelope, no strange powder leaking from the inside. He held the knife letter opener in his hand, he hesitated.

He should probably give the mysterious letter to the Batman to test before opening. But Jim knew what the precinct was saying about him. He let the Batman do his job, he had gotten soft, he had forgotten how to be a detective. He had gotten old. The worst of it was, Jim could not find it himself to disagree with any of it.

And it was not just his own public opinion that had dropped since the new District Attorney had taken office, Harvey Dent had ran with the promise to clean up the streets of Gotham and that included the vigilante known as the Batman.

No, Jim would handle this on his own. It was likely to be nothing, a simple well wisher or even more likely hate mail from a disgruntled Gothamite that blamed him for the state of Gotham.

Would they be wrong, he wondered not for the first time. He had tried to do good, to do the right thing for Gotham, but had he done more harm than good. Was he really no better than the costumed thugs that terrorized the city, he questioned. Jim had something to prove, to the citizens of the city he vowed to protect, to the men and women under his command, and to himself.

He cut open the envelope and breathed a sigh of relief when he pulled out the New Year's card. He opened the card, it was strangely blank, but something fell out on the table. It was face down but appeared to be a photograph. The mail had been nothing more than an advertisement after all. He flipped the photo over and froze.

It was a picture of himself younger with Oswald. They stood in an alley, the younger Jim had the younger Oswald by the collar and had pulled him close enough to appear to be intimate. The picture itself wasn't damning, but he remembered what had happened next. He had kissed Oswald for the first time that day, in that dirty alley behind the old penthouse he shared with Barbara.

_‘You shouldn't have come back to Gotham, Cobblepot,’ he had known even then that he had not seen the last of Fish's umbrella boy when he dumped him in the harbor._

_‘Where would you have me go, detective?’ Oswald demanded. ‘Gotham is my home, Gotham is my mother, Gotham needs me.’_

_The words should have been ridiculous, Cobblepot was nothing but a puny dirty umbrella boy with bad teeth and shifty eyes. But he had not laughed. There was something about Cobblepot that he recognized from his days as a soldier, Oswald was a rat but he was a survivor._

_‘You can't come here, if we're seen together it'll ruin everything,’ Jim grabbed his collar and pulled him closer. ‘Don't make me regret not killing you, it's not too late, everyone already assumes you're dead.’_

_‘I came back to help you, James,’ Oswald said._

_‘Why?’ Jim shook the diminutive gangster. ‘It's because of you I'm in this mess.’ He knew that was not exactly fair of him, but he regretted the day he ever saw the Penguin._

_‘Because you saved me,’ Oswald leaned forward, ‘and now it's my turn to save you. Word is you are about to arrested for the murder of one Oswald Chesterfield Cobblepot, I alone can prove your innocence. After all, as I can prove, he is very much alive.’_

_Jim almost wished he had done the deed, whatever the consequence. All of his problems could have been solved with one little bullet._

_‘And what would you ask in return?’ Oswald was mob, and the mob never did anything for free._

_‘Why, only to be your friend, James,’ Oswald grinned. ‘Friends do not ask for payment of a favor.’_

_‘Coming forward might get the GCPD off my back but it would paint a pretty target for the mob,’ Jim’s spit sprayed Oswald’s face. ‘I think I'll take my chances.’_

_‘I have protection from the mob,’ Oswald licked his lips. ‘Fish will not dare harm you without Falcone's backing, and Maroni will not start a gang war over one detective.’_

_‘It’s not Fish Mooney I'm worried about, everyone knows Falcone owns the GCPD.’ Either way he looked at it, he was screwed. He had found himself smack middle in a three way battle between the mob for Gotham._

_‘Falcone is an old man, Gotham is finished with him,’ Oswald told him. ‘It's time for a new king.’_

_Jim did laugh then. ‘Who, you?’_

_‘Why not me?’ Oswald hissed. ‘They do not understand Gotham the way I do, not Falcone, not Maroni, and not Fish Mooney. They would destroy Gotham in their lust for her, I will save her,’ he lowered his voice. ‘We can save her. A war is coming to Gotham, James. You do not want to find yourself on the wrong side.’_

_Jim loosened his grip on Oswald’s collar. ‘What are you proposing?’_

_‘You saved me, I owe you my life, allow me to return the favor,’ he placed his free hand on Jim’s. ‘A favor for a favor, nothing more.’_

_And Jim would keep owing the mobster a favor, he knew how things worked in the mob._

_‘I won't be your inside man on the force, Cobblepot,’ he knocked Oswald’s hand away. ‘I would rather spend the rest of my life in prison.’_

_‘That can be arranged, but what about your fiance, James?’ Oswald grinned. ‘Who will keep the lovely Ms. Barbara Kean safe while you are away?’_

_‘If you're threatening her-,’ he tightened his grip, he was almost strangling Oswald now. ‘I swear-.’_

_‘Not I, James. I would never do harm to the woman you would marry. However, Fish and Maroni would be under no such scruples. And they would love nothing more than to make an example of her, of what happens when you try to cross the mob.’_

_Jim feared Oswald was right. He had hoped to keep Barbara out of it, he hoped to keep her safe, but he couldn't do that from behind bars. He saw no other way._

_He released Oswald. ‘A favor for a favor,’ he held out his hand._

_‘You will see James, it is better to walk in the dark with a friend than to walk alone in the light,’ Oswald took his hand, his grip was surprisingly strong, and pulled him forward. ‘However in the mob a deal is sealed with a kiss.’_

_Jim had a moment of panic, Harvey teased him that the Penguin had a crush on him but he had not thought it sexual in nature. But it was only a kiss, he could do it. He tilted Oswald’s head back, probably more roughly than he should have, and placed his mouth against the other man's lips. It was a quick peck that could hardly be considered a kiss. Oswald’s lips were dry and he tasted a faint smell of the fish he must have eaten for lunch. He jerked back and wiped his mouth against the back of his hand._

_Oswald stared at him with large eyes, his fingers touching his mouth. ‘That… um, was not exactly what I meant, James.’ He held Jim’s face and quickly gave him a kiss on both sides of his mouth. ‘There, now the deal is sealed.’_

_‘Do not come here again, Cobblepot,’ Jim set the rules. ‘If you need to see me, you will call me and I will decide the time and place. Deal?’_

_‘I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship,’ Oswald shook Jim’s hand._

_He had slept that night next to Barbara and dreamed of kissing the dark haired gangster, he woke with the taste of fish still in his mouth and a raging erection. And he had made love Barbara in the morning._

Jim smiled almost fondly at the photo in his hands. If he had known how entwined his life would become with the man known as the Penguin he might have walked away that day.

“Commissioner Gordon?” Harper knocked on his open door and peeked in. “Mayor Silverman is here for the ten o'clock meeting… are you feeling alright there, Commish? You look a little flushed.”

“I skipped breakfast this morning, you know how it is with the holidays,” Jim put the photo in his coat pocket. “I'll grab something after the meeting, don't tell Barbara.”

“I'll tell Jennifer to put out some bagels for the meeting,” Harper smiled. “You shouldn't be skipping breakfast, Commish. You're not as young as you used to be, you know.” She left.

He was forty-nine, almost fifty. He _was_ old. He _felt_ old.

Jim took out his phone and brought up the contact only marked as, Oz. He quickly typed: Need to meet. Roof. 11:45 p.m. Urgent. He hit send and pocketed the phone. 

 

* * *

 

Jim had always found it peaceful on the roof of the station. Harvey had accused him of being one of the gargoyles that covered the roofs of Gotham's skyline. He missed Bullock, strange as it might have seem in the early days of their partnership his old partner had been his moral compass and he felt lost without his guidance.

He should visit him, he knew. But it was too hard to see his friend, his brother, so diminished from how he liked to remember him. And he knew it was how Harvey wanted it as well. His emails were just as sharp as ever, and he teased that to follow Jim’s career one only had to watch the news.

Were any of them what they once were, he thought.

“Commissioner Gordon,” Oswald stepped out into the open. “No bat this night but you have called yourself a penguin it would seem.”

“Oswald, I have something you need to look at.”

“I am here to be of service,” the mob boss bowed sarcastically. “Although I would rather do this somewhere warmer.”

Jim pulled out the photograph and unfolded it, handed it to Oswald. “What do you know about this?”

“I know I would be about thirty pounds lighter in this with thirty percent more hair,” Oswald looked down at the photo. “I almost forgot how handsome you were without that horrible seventies porno moustache.”

“Did you send this to the station?”

“No, I did not Commissioner Gordon,” he held the photo out for Jim to take back.

“Did you have this picture taken?” he took the photograph from Oswald.

“I may remind you, James, I am also in his photo,” Oswald chuckled. “Unless you suggest I traveled back in time and took the picture myself of our younger selves.” He took his cigarette case out of his pocket. “If you do not mind, it is, as you can imagine, a busy night at the Lounge, am I free to go?”

“You don't seem concerned about this, Penguin.”

“That picture was taken over twenty years ago, Gordon,” Oswald opened the case and removed a cigarette. “Want one?” he offered the case to Jim.

“I'm trying to quit,” he shook his head. “Barbara got me a nicotine pack for Christmas and made me promise to her to quit smoking in the New Year.”

His doctor had told him the stress of the job plus his unhealthy habits could see him dead by the time he reached sixty.

“It's not yet midnight, James,” Oswald stuck the cigarette in Jim’s mouth. “Share your last cigarette with an old friend.” He struck his lighter that probably cost more than Jim’s made in one paycheck and lit the cigarette before lighting his own.

Jim puffed on the cigarette, Oswald’s brand always tasted better than anything else. And the taste always reminded him of kissing Oswald in dirty hotel rooms. It had become a tradition, or a habit, to share a cigarette after sex.

Fireworks went over the night sky.

He looked at Oswald, really looked at him. The Godfather of Gotham resembled his namesake the Penguin more than ever. He had always been short of stature. But with richer eating and a leg injury that had only gotten worse in the years he had gained weight. Oswald had always been a little on the chunky side but now he would be considered obese by most standards. But the gentleman rogue still dressed in implicit style, only the most expensive cut and fabric. And really Oswald was not the only one that had changed.

The truth was, Jim was still, after all this time, very much in love with Oswald. He liked to think in another world, another time, they would have married and raised their respective children together.

“One minute to midnight,” Oswald checked his old pocket watch, his father's Jim recognized the crack down the face of the watch.

“I could think of worse places to begin the New Year,” Jim said. “And worse people to begin it with.”

“To old auld friends and all that, James?” Oswald puffed on his cigarette, held it between his fingers.

“Something like that,” Jim threw his cigarette on the roof and stepped on it to put it out. He reached forward and kissed Oswald, and Oswald kissed him back. Their bodies might be older but they still remembered how to fit together.

All Jim needed now was to have the Commissioner be caught kissing the Kingpin known as the Penguin on the roof of the station in front of the Batsignal. But for once he was not thinking about his public image.

Jim pulled away. “Barbara is staying at the Wayne Manor tonight, come home with me,” he told Oswald.

“James… I can't-.”

A loud explosion over their heads cut off whatever Oswald was about to say. Colored fireworks rained down on the ground. Something must have gone wrong with the fireworks show, he thought. His cellphone rang. The Batman, Jim sighed.

“Gordon,” he answered.

“There's trouble in Central Park, meet you there.” The Batman ended the call without waiting for a response.

“I have to go-.”

“The Bat calls you,” Oswald scowled. “You believe you control the Batman with that thing,” he pointed to the signal, “but who controls who, Commissioner?”

“Oswald… stay out of trouble,” Jim warned him. “The new D.A. is out for blood, and it'll be penguin season soon.”

“Happy New Year, Commissioner,” Oswald blew smoke and tossed his cigarette over the roof. He went down the fire escape ladder, leaving Jim alone on the roof.

If the Batman was already involved, it was bad business. Not the way he wanted to start the New Year.

 

* * *

 

Jim stared down at the burned body in front of them, the smell of burned flesh reminding him he had never eaten more than a bagel that day. The body was still burning he noticed in disgust.

“Drury Walker, otherwise known as the Killer Moth, low leveled rogue, known as an associate of the Falcone Family,” the Batman spoke in his low tone. “It would appear the Moth flew too close to the fireworks and burned.”

Jim fought down a laugh, he did not think the Bat even had a sense of humor. “This wasn't an accident.”

“No.”

“The Joker?” Jim asked.

“Not his style,” the Batman breathed. “This is a punchline without a joke. This wasn't the Joker.”

The Batman almost spoke of the Joker with respect, reverence. The Joker had a strange _love_ for the Bat, and Jim always wondered if that love worked both ways. Not that he was one to speak, he had been kissing the Penguin not an hour before.

Jim sighed. It was going to be a long night, he would rather be spending the night in his bed with Oswald.

 


	2. February

February 14, Valentine's Day

Jim had always hated Valentine's Day, even when he had someone to spend it with. He had never known how to weigh the amount of affection against the balance of the right gift. Barbara Kean had once told him, during a particularly nasty fight, that his feelings could not fill a thimble. She had later apologized but he always wondered if she were not right.

And not having a special someone to spend the day with, he felt like the one grumpy old man in every Hallmark romance. Not that he watched the movies, every year Babs would watch them and make bad commentary, but not this year, his daughter had a date with the young Dick Grayson, Bruce Wayne's ward.

Jim liked Dick, there was much about him that reminded him of Bruce at that age, he was a good boy. He just was not sure he liked the idea of his daughter getting mixed in with the Wayne's.

He sighed, or maybe he was just bitter and jealous. Maybe he should give Oswald a call and extend his previous offer to spend the night. They had not spoken since New Year's but the kiss had been often on his mind and he wondered what would have happened if the Batman had not interrupted.

No, he shook his head. There had not been another photograph since the first but it would be best to stay far far away from Penguin.

Jennifer Morrow knocked on his office door and entered without waiting for an invite. Jennifer was a young woman, a friend of his daughter, she was a good worker but tended to treat him with the same familiarity as his daughter.

“Delivery man just dropped this at the front desk, Commish,” she held up a small but elegant bouquet of purple lilies. “They're addressed to you,” she placed the vase on his desk. “It seems you got an admirer. Do I know her?”

Jim felt himself blush. Purple lilies, Oswald would never send such an obvious calling card to the station, would he? “There must be a mistake,” he told her.

“There's a card,” Jennifer grabbed the card from the bouquet. “See, it says Jim Gordon.” She showed him the script. The writing was not Oswald’s but likely he had had someone else fill it out, perhaps he had even ordered the flowers over the phone.

“Probably just Babs feeling bad for abandoning her old man tonight,” he forced a laugh and took the envelope out of her hands before her curiosity got the better of her.

“You're still a very attractive man, Commish, for a dad,” she giggled. “You know, I bet they're from the new clerk down in records, Mary? Word is she's got a crush on you. And she's cute, has a fourteen year old boy.”

“I met her and her _wife_ at the Christmas party, lovely couple.”

“Oh! I thought she brought her sister,” Jennifer shrugged. “Do you need anything before I go, Commish?”

“No, thanks, Jennifer,” he smiled. “Go ahead and leave early if you have plans.”

Jennifer meant well but her words made him think. It would be difficult enough for the Commissioner to date, or even marry, another man much less one of the biggest known rogues in Gotham. And there was another to think of, his daughter, Barbara. It would be impossible.

He should throw away the card in his hand, he ripped it open. Inside was a card of a cute cartoon penguin holding a cutout heart, a photograph fell out and Jim picked it up with shaking hands.

They were at Oswald’s first club, dancing slowly together, holding hands.

Jim slammed the call button. “Jennifer, get back in here. Now.”

“Commissioner Gordon?” Jennifer peeked around the door.

“The delivery man, where did he come from? What did he look like, his name? Everything you remember.”

“He said his name was Fred, was wearing a shirt from that Florist Emperium place on Washington Street. Tallish, light brown or dark blonde hair, cute but not handsome.”

“That's good, thank you,” he told her. “You may leave now, and Jennifer, be safe tonight, alright?”

“You sure, Commish? Should I call someone?” she looked concerned for him.

“No, everything's fine,” he smiled. “Go, have fun.”

“Okay, will do,” she waved before leaving.

Jim pulled out his cell and tried to call Oswald, it went immediately to voicemail. He ended the call without leaving a message. He called another contact listed only as ‘Z’.

“Zsasz,” the voice answered.

“Victor, I need to speak to Oswald, it's urgent.”

“Jimbo! What a surprise! It's been too long! To what do I owe the honor?”

“I need to speak to Oswald, he isn't answering his phone.”

“Boss ain't here, it's Valentine's Day.”

“Are you saying… Oswald has a date?” Jim felt lightheaded.

“Went to Arkham to visit a little green riddling bird, I'm thinking it's a conjugal visit, if you get my meaning,” Victor laughed. “Should I tell him you called?”

“No. Don't bother.” Jim ended the call and slammed his phone down.

Damn! Oswald and Riddler were on again it would seem. Ed Nygma was always bad news. He would get what he wanted from Oswald and leave Jim to pick up the pieces.

Jim picked up the photo.

_‘Jim! You came!’ Oswald turned from the older blonde woman he had been speaking to and came to Jim. ‘I knew you would accept my invitation,’ Oswald grabbed his hand._

_‘This isn't a social call, Oswald. I'm here on business.’_

_The nightclub had not been changed much from when Fish owned the place, but the biggest difference was the lack of personages. Jim recognized a few members of the mob in attendance._

_‘Ozwald, who is this handsome gentleman?’ the woman followed Oswald.  Standing side by side it was obvious the older woman was the Cobblepot mother._

_‘Detective James Gordon, ma'am, and you must be Oswald’s sister,’ he put out his hand to her._

_‘A police officer,’ she frowned and hide behind Oswald. ‘You brought a police officer here, Ozzie! What have I told you, never trust the police, my little bird.’  And then she started speaking in a language Jim did not recognize, it sounded a little like German._

_‘No, ma. Jim is not like other policemen.’ Oswald brought his mother forward. ‘Jim is the one I told you about. He saved my life, mother. We can trust him.’_

_‘My little Cobblepot trusts you, Officer Gordon,’ she glared at Jim. ‘But I will be keeping my eye on you. My bird is often betrayed by a handsome face.’_

_‘Mother!’ Oswald blushed bright red. He turned to her, hidden from Jim and spoke to her quietly in that other language. Whatever he said seemed to placate his mother, though her smile made him almost as nervous as Oswald’s did. ‘I apologize for my mother, you must understand her family came to this country as refugees when she was only a girl. It has given her a distrust for the police.’_

_‘My son says you are an honest man, Officer Gordon.’ She pointed her finger at him. ‘I tell him those are the men to watch out for,’ she laughed. ‘I will sing for you, my little bird,’ she kissed Oswald on the mouth. ‘A nice song of love.’ She did a courtesy to Jim and waltzed towards the stage._

_The affection between mother and son made Jim uncomfortable, but his own mother had always been cold and distant and he thought perhaps he was judging too harshly. ‘Your mother is a lovely woman, I can tell she cares for you a great deal.’_

_‘You think my mother is crazy, do you not, James?’ Oswald turned to him. ‘My mother is old fashioned but she is not crazy.’_

_Jim could guess Oswald’s mother had started to forget things, had started confusing Oswald for her father or perhaps a long dead uncle. That she woke in the middle of the night believing the year was thirty years before. Maybe there were times she mistook Oswald for his father, whoever he had been._

_‘Does she know what you do, Oswald?’_

_‘No, she believes Fish was an honest businesswoman,’ Oswald chewed his thumb nail. ‘She may have the wrong idea about you, about us. I tried to explain to her that you are my good friend. She believes that means you are courting me. Ridiculous, I know,’ he shrugged. ‘But I would rather she not know of the truth.’_

_‘She doesn't mind… that, you know,’ he cleared his throat. ‘I'm a guy.’_

_‘No,’ Oswald laughed. ‘To be completely honest, I think she prefers it.’ Jim knew of the type, mothers who didn't want to share their sons with their wives._

_‘And you, do you mind?’_

_‘If you're asking if I'm queer, Jim, just ask,’ he rolled his eyes. ‘As I'm sure you surmised two minutes after meeting me, yes I'm gay!’_

_Jim had guessed, or assumed, but he hadn't liked to make assumptions. After all people had been making assumptions about his sexuality most of his life._

_Oswald’s mother tapped the microphone. ‘This is song I dedicate to my son and his lovely detective.’ She turned towards the piano player. ‘You know ‘Someone to Watch Over Me', yes?’_

_‘There's a somebody I'm longing to see, I hope that he turns out to be, Someone who'll watch over me.’ She sang._

_He was not sure what made him do it, he would blame it on the song, on the look of guarded rejection on Oswald’s face. Jim held his hand out to him, ‘May I have this dance?’_

_‘You don't have to do that, Detective Gordon,’ Oswald looked down at Jim’s hand like he was offering him to hold a poisonous viper._

_‘Isn't there some tradition that the new owner gets the first dance?’ Jim made up._

_‘I… don't know how to dance,” he looked away._

_‘That's fine, I'll take point,’ he smiled._

_‘I would not want you to make fun of me,’ Oswald gestured to his leg._

_‘I'll tell you a secret,’ he said, ‘the first time I danced with Barbara at our engagement party I was so nervous I stepped on the train of her dress and ripped it up the side. Everyone laughed.’_

_‘I am rather surprised Ms. Kean did not end the engagement right then,’ he giggled._

_‘To be honest, I was too, the dress was worth more than my entire bank account,’ he smiled. ‘But she only ripped the other side too so they would match. No one laughed then.’ Jim thought it had more to do with the scandalized reaction of her mother than any solidarity with him, but Oswald did not need to know that._

_‘You are doing a poor job of selling your services as a dance partner, James.’_

_‘They'll be too busy laughing at me to laugh at you, Oswald,’ he offered his hand. ‘Take my hand before I make too much of an ass of myself.’_

_‘My leg, I would not want to fall,’ he looked at Jim’s hand like it was the sweetest treat that he wanted but was afraid to take._

_‘I won't let you fall, I promise,’ Jim promised him._

_‘If only because my mother is watching and I would not wish her to get suspicious.’ Oswald took his hand._

_Truth be told Jim had little experience in dancing and when he had danced with Barbara she had let him lead by following. And he had absolutely never danced with another man, although it was not as awkward as he had feared. In fact, it felt quite natural to have Oswald in his arms, maybe a little too natural._

_Cobblepot was not his type, in male or female partners, nor did he find the gangster conventionally attractive, but there was something about him that attracted him just the same. And this close he could see flecks of green in his blue eyes and the freckles that he attempted to hide with makeup._

_He found he wanted to kiss him again, he leaned forward and-_

_‘Jim! Did you get the intel we came for?’ Harvey stopped. ‘Hey, am I interrupting something? I can go back and wait in the unmarked.’ He pointed behind him._

_Jim stepped away from Oswald, Bullock had broken the spell, whatever had been the cause._

_In the end, Oswald had given them the information they needed, Harvey had shared a drink with Gabe, and Jim had gotten the strangest version of “the talk” by Penguin's mother that he had ever had._

_And then James went home to his empty place, put on an album of ‘Someone to Watch Over Me’, and removing his suit mastrubated to the thought of a certain dark haired, bright eyed, gangster._

Jim shoved the photograph into his pocket. _Nygma._ It was always Nygma.

“Commissioner,” Alvarez yanked the door open. “There's been a situation at the Dark Delicacy Chocolate plant in the factory district. The night crew says someone fell into one of their vats.”

“Do they suspect foul play?” The accident was unfortunate but Jim did not see why it would be the Crime Unit’s business.

“They say it was a rogue, Commissioner,” Alvarez answered. “The former game show host, Cluemaster.”

Damn, it would keep his mind off of Oswald and Nygma and whatever they were doing tonight anyway.

 

* * *

 

“Word is, Arthur Brown, alias Cluemaster, tried to double cross the Maroni Family,” Batman touched the body on the morgue slab, the chocolate had hardened to give the former rogue the appearance of a chocolate statue. “He was alive when his body hit the vat, he would have suffocated.” The Batman sighed. “He has… a young daughter. Bruce Wayne has offered to help put her through school, get her out of Gotham.”

Jim was tired, of Gotham, of the Force. “This was a mob hit?”

“More than likely, yes,” the Batman answered. “I'm looking into it, if I discover anything I'll let you know. As I assume you will tell me.”

“This is technically still a police matter, Batman.”

“We are on the same side, don't forget that.”

Jim turned around, the Batman was already gone. His cellphone buzzed. He checked the time, 10:23 p.m. It was Oswald with a text, his _date_ with the Riddler must have ended early.

‘Z said you called?’

Jim turned off his cell and put it back in his pocket. He would deal with the Oswald issue later.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter has less Gobblepot but Harvey makes an appearance via a flashback (and a small not quite nod to Nygmalock lol)
> 
> Thanks for continuing to read!


	3. March

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is all Jim & Harvey brotp (my favorite brotp of Gotham).
> 
> I feel like this is something of a filler chapter but I'm fond of Harvey.

March 17, Saint Patrick's Day

Jim dug out the tacky pin from his drawer and pushed the button, he did not expect it to light up but the green lights blink faintly before dying.

Kiss Me I'm Irish

_‘Come on, Jim,’ Harvey shoved a paper cup at him. ‘Lighten up a little, celebrate with us.’ His partner was wearing an annoying blinking ‘Kiss Me I'm Irish’ pin._

_‘We're on duty,’ he lowered his voice. ‘You shouldn't be drinking at the station.’_

_‘It's just a bit o’ Irish whisky,’ Harvey drank the cup he had tried to give to Jim. ‘Look even Eddie decided to join us,’ he grabbed Ed Nygma and put his arm around him._

_‘Knock knock, Jim, Jimmy, Jimbo,’ Ed slurred his words._

_‘I don't have time for jokes, Ed. The report on the diamond theft is due in the morning.’ And anyway, wasn't riddles his thing not knock knock jokes._

_‘Go on, Jim. You'll like it. I taught it to Ed myself,’ Harvey urged him._

_‘Who's there?’ he asked, sometimes it was just easier to play along and then hopefully they would go on and leave him alone._

_‘Irish!’ Ed exclaimed excitedly._

_‘Irish who?’ Jim looked at Harvey, he really hoped he hadn't taught Ed a dirty joke._

_‘Irish you a happy Saint Patrick's Day!’ Ed giggled._

_‘Hey, Eddie, you're wearing a green tie, there's another Paddy's Day tradition I haven't shown ya yet,’ Harvey winked at Jim._

_‘I would like to know more about your traditions, Detective Bullock,’ Ed blinked at Harvey, Jim wondered how many cups of Irish whisky the younger man had been given._

_‘If yer caught wearin the green on Paddy's Day ya get a kissin,’ Harvey pulled Ed down by his ridiculous leprechaun tie and planted a kiss right on his lips. Jim expected Harvey to pull away but he didn't, not right away._

_Jim cleared his throat. ‘Ed, I'm going to need you to pull the forensic report for me on the case.’_

_‘What?’ Ed looked confused, then turned bright red when he realized what he had been doing. ‘Oh! I'll… uh, go get that for you.’ He ran off._

_‘You shouldn't have done that,’ Jim took the drink out of Harvey's hand. ‘That was probably the kid's first kiss.’ And Harvey had made a joke out of it, Jim almost felt sorry for him._

_‘With lips like that? Not likely, Jimbo,’ Harvey touched his mouth and laughed. ‘Hell, with lips like that I'm almost tempted to do that again, is that gay?’_

_‘You're drunk, Harvey,’ he sighed. ‘Go sleep in the drunk tank before you cause anymore damage.’_

“Hey Commissioner, a group of us are going to the pub after our shift,” Harper dropped off her paperwork. “You should meet us, after you're done.”

“I have a lot of work to do, and an early morning,” Jim told her. “Anyway, you can't drink and complain about the boss if he's at the table with you.”

“You're not just the boss, Commish,” she smiled, “you're one of us.”

“Good night, Harper,” he said. “Look after Jennifer, will you? Make sure she doesn't get into trouble.”

“Will do,” she left and closed his door.

Jim was alone, he wasn't one of them. He had never been one of them. He opened the case report and inside found another envelope. He was tempted to throw it in the shredder without looking, but he couldn't do that.

He had to find out who was sending these cards, and what they were planning to do with the pictures. He knew he wasn't being a very good police officer, he should have the cards checked for fingerprints, but he couldn't let anyone find out his secret.

He ripped the card open, it had a sexy leprechaun with a pot of gold between his legs. The photo stuck inside showed himself standing with Oswald beside an unmarked police vehicle, Oswald was kissing his cheek. The actual kiss had lasted no more than two seconds, but frozen in time like this appeared to linger.

_‘Goodnight, detective,’ Oswald pecked him on the cheek. ‘Are you sure you wouldn't want a nightcap?’_

_‘Harvey is waiting in the car,’ Jim said._

_‘Do not be a stranger, detective,’ he took Jim’s hand and held it. ‘You are always welcome here.’_

_‘Thank you for coming with us tonight, we would not have found what we were looking for without you,’ Jim shook his hand._

_‘A favor for a favor, James,’ he grinned. He let go of Jim’s hand and left him on the sidewalk to walk up the bar. The night promised rain and Oswald seemed to be limping more than usual. He waited until Oswald was inside before getting in the driver seat next to Harvey._

_‘Almost thought you were gonna kiss him goodnight, Jim,’ he laughed. ‘Felt like your father driving your date home.’_

_‘Funny,’ Jim started the car. ‘Considering I'm the one doing the actual driving.’ He was hoping Harvey would drop it, he should have known better._

_‘The Penguin kissed you,’ he turned in his seat to watch Jim._

_‘On the cheek, Harvey,’ he stared ahead to merge with traffic._

_‘For him that's like catching him slipping you tongue,’ he chuckled._

_‘Jesus! You've kissed me on the cheek, Harvey. It doesn't mean anything.’_

_‘Did you know Fish couldn't figure him out? She thought he had a crush on her but turned out he only saw her as a second mother. He never showed no interest in anyone, male or female. Thought he might be asexual.’_

_‘Where are you going with this, Harvey?’ he tightened his hands on the wheel._

_‘He likes you, James,’ he grinned. ‘Likes, likes, you.’_

_‘Say he does,’ he shrugged, ‘what difference does it make?’_

_‘I'm just saying it might be useful,’ he leaned forward. ‘Be a little friendly to Penguin and you'd have the little freak eating outta your hands.’_

_‘He's not a freak,’ he said without thinking._

_‘Hey, sorry!’ Harvey held his hands up. ‘Didn't know you actually had feelings for Cobblepot.’_

_‘I don't have feelings for Cobblepot,’ he glanced at Harvey._

_‘I caught you two getting awfully chummy on the dance floor, looked as though you would've kissed him if I hadn't walked in just then. Hey, I'm not judging. Could be handy to be in Penguin's pocket. But James? Penguin's bad news, I'm warning you, be careful. When Maroni and Falcone come after him, and they will, you don't want to be caught in the crosshairs by being Penguin's boyfriend.’_

_Jim had hoped Harvey had forgotten about that._

_‘I'm not Penguin's boyfriend,’ he pulled into the station parking lot and kept the engine idle. ‘If you have a question come out with it, I'm getting a little tired of the interrogation.’_

_‘Fine,’ Harvey leaned back. ‘Are you screwing the Penguin, Jim?’_

_‘Don't be ridiculous, of course not. Can we go now? It's late, I'm tired, and I want to go to bed.’_

_‘One more question,’ he held up his finger. ‘Do you want to fuck the Penguin?’_

_‘Don't be crude,’ Jim felt his ears turn red in embarrassment. ‘Absolutely not.’_

_‘Shit, it's worse than I feared,’ Harvey shook his head. ‘Maybe it's just a sex thing? Maybe you can just fuck Cobblepot out of your system.’_

_‘I'm dating Leslie Thompkins, in case you've forgotten.’ Doctor Lee Thompkins who was beautiful, kind, and compassionate and nothing at all like the Penguin. ‘I can't believe you're actually suggesting I cheat on her.’_

_But wasn't he already cheating on her, in a sense, every time he thought about taking Oswald, fantasized about being taken by Oswald. And when he took himself to hand it was not with thoughts of his gorgeous girlfriend, it was not her name on his lips when he climaxed in his hand._

_‘If you don't mind me asking, you don't have to answer,’ Harvey lowered his voice. ‘Is this a Penguin thing, or are you into guys?’_

_Jim was tempted to lie, but he didn't want to. Not to Harvey, not to his partner, even if it changed everything between them. ‘It's not just a Penguin thing, I've always been attracted to both women and men.’ His first erection had been in gym class when his male coach had come into the locker room to change out of his sweaty clothes, but he doubted Harvey wanted details._

_‘I have to ask, Jim. All those late nights working, all the times I crashed at your place, why did you never try to pick up on me?’_

_Jim chuckled. ‘I guess you're just not my type, Harvey.’_

_‘No I get it. You're not into burly sexy bears, your type is more effeminate goth twinks, I get it,’ Harvey gestured to himself. ‘Your loss, boy scout.’_

_‘So… we're good?’ Jim held his breath. He had lost more than one male friend over being bisexual and he didn't want to lose Harvey too._

_‘We’re good. Penguin, though. You're screwed, you know that, don't you?’ Harvey grabbed his head and hugged him roughly. ‘I've got your back, Jim. But you're screwed, you know that?’_

_‘Yeah, I know,’ he breathed in Harvey's scent of cheap cologne and alcohol, the smell was soothing. ‘Thanks Harv.’_

_‘Now why couldn't you fall for a boy like Nygma? Sure he's an odd one but I'll tell you on very good authority, the boy can kiss.’_

_Jim laughed._

Jim's desk phone rang.

“GCPD, Commissioner Gordon speaking,” he answered.

“Drunken revelers called in to report a body found in the sewers. They said the body has has been partially eaten, and one of the men claim to have seen Killer Croc. On the corner of-.”

There went Jim’s quiet night.

 

* * *

 

“What do you think did this?” Jim held his sleeve against his nose and mouth. He had seen his share of dead bodies, and mutilated corpses, but this was a whole other level of sickening. This man had been eaten alive.

“Killer Croc didn't do this,” the Batman knelt down in the sewers and pointed to a bite mark on the dead man's cheek. “The bites are too small to be human, much less a monster like the Croc. My guess is these are rodent bites. Rats to be exact.”

“Do you think he was already dead when the rats… fed on him?”

“There's too much blood,” the Batman felt along the man's legs. “They're broken, someone broke his kneecaps so he couldn't get away.”

“Maybe he got drunk and fell in, broke his legs in the fall?” Jim was still hoping it was accident, that would be better than this.

“The nearest manhole is seven feet away, Commissioner Gordon, it is unlikely he fell.”

Jim looked down and something white caught his eye, it appeared to be a small piece of paper. He picked it up by its corner with his gloved hand. It was a business card. It read:

 'Ratcatcher Extermination’

“Otis Flannegan, aka the Ratcatcher, exterminator for the mob,” the Batman read over his shoulder.

Jim had heard of the Ratcatcher, he was an exterminator only he didn't exterminate pests, he exterminated people. And he was known for the rats that he controlled.

“By the Bat!” Gordon forgot who he was with. “His _own_ rats attacked and ate him.” He felt like he might be sick.

“Somebody did this, Gordon.”

“What do you mean?”

“Three months, three deaths, three victims with ties to the mob.”

“This is Gotham, mob hits don't even make the morning news anymore.”

“Not like _this,_ this is more than a simple mob hit, Commissioner.”

“What are you suggesting?” Jim felt uneasy.

“I think we might have a mob war being waged on the streets of Gotham.” The Batman turned to Jim. “And there's one man that benefits the most from the Families being at war.”

“Penguin,” Jim answered.

Everything always led back to Oswald Cobblepot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next up is April's Fool Day ;)
> 
> The story will start to move forward again next chapter!
> 
> Thank you for reading!


	4. April

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This month's holiday is April Fool's Day. Please keep this in mind while reading. No main characters die in this (pinkie swear!!)!! And things are not what they seem.
> 
> This was one of the first chapters I had planned for this fic but it wasn't easy to write! 
> 
> ((Hope you don't hate me too much!!))

April 1, April Fool's Day

Jim looked up at the body hanging from the street lamp and sighed. The bright colored fool's hat had fallen over the body's face but there was no mistaking the clothes it was wearing. He had seen that bright green coat with sequin question marks on only one other man.

 _Good Lord, someone had killed the Riddler._ It did not surprise Jim, the real surprise was that the rogue had lasted this long. And he would not have without Cobblepot's protection, he suspected.

 _Oswald,_ Jim pinched the bridge of his nose. Someone was going to have to tell the Penguin that his _favorite_ had been killed. Jim couldn't let Oswald hear about this from anyone else but him.

“Get him down,” he ordered his officers. There was no love loss between himself and Nygma but even one such as he deserved more dignity than this. Jim remembered the rogue when he was only Ed Nygma the forensic scientist with a fondness for riddles, but that was before what he did to Kristen, Lee, and even Oswald. He caught a flash from a camera across the street. “You!” he called out to the person. “In the name of the GCPD don't move!”

Jim ran across the street, ashamed by out the breath the short distance made him. He grabbed the camera out of the reporter's hands, if someone who wrote for the tabloid Gotham Rag could be called such. “No pictures at the crime scene,” he told the young man.

“So you admit it is a crime scene, Commissioner Gordon?” the boy looked no older than Barbara.

“Don't think the fool climbed the light pole and hanged himself, do you?” he cursed at himself for not keeping his big mouth shut. He started to remove the memory card from the camera.

“Hey, I'm a licensed reporter, you can't just take that, I know my rights!”

“Consider it seizing evidence in an ongoing investigation,” Jim pocketed the small card and handed the camera back.

“Don't you think the public deserves to know someone killed the Riddler, Commissioner Gordon?”

Jim groaned, he could see the headlines now: Riddle Me This, Who Killed the Riddler?

“You write for the rag, meaning you know all about the _special_ relationship between the Penguin and Riddler,” Jim grabbed the reporter closer. The rag had even given them a _cute_ name, Riddlepot. “Do _you_ want to be the one to tell the Penguin that someone has killed the Riddler? The Penguin has a nasty habit of shooting the messenger of bad news.”

The reporter swallowed. “I'm just freelance, trying to put myself through school to get outta here, you gotta let me go, Commissioner. Please, don't tell the Penguin. I don't want to die!” The boy started crying.

“Get lost,” Jim pushed him away. The boy ran. Jim turned around slowly. “How long have you been standing there?”

“Long enough to see maybe you should be the one wearing the cowl,” the Batman stepped out of the shadows.

“This is bad, Batman,” Jim sighed. “You know Penguin won't rest until everyone responsible is dead. It's going to be full out war.”

Nygma would be smug that he had finally won Oswald’s attention at the end.

“I agree,” the masked vigilante said. “If that man was Nygma.”

“What do you mean?” He wasn't actually saying-

“I had Oracle visit Arkham’s security systems, Nygma is in his cell, very much alive.”

“Then... who in Gotham is that up there?” Jim couldn't let himself be relieved.

“I don't know. But I intend to find out.” The Batman stepped back into the shadows and disappeared.

 

* * *

 

Jim looked away from the body beneath the sheet, the similarity between Nygma was almost uncanny. He always hated seeing a familiar form on the coroner slab, even someone he had every reason to despise.

“Who was he?” he asked the Batman.

“Fingerprints show him to be Mark Stevens, computer engineer at Wayne Enterprises,” the Batman coughed. “His social media accounts reveal that he did cosplay, apparently his Riddler was award winning.”

By the Bat! Who in their right mind would actually want to dress like the rogues of Gotham for fun?

“Do you think it was a case of mistaken identity?”

“No. He was picked up at his home, there were signs of a struggle, the person that did this knew who they had. My guess is, someone is sending a message. Mark disrespected the Riddler and paid the price. And with the real E Nygma locked up in Arkham, there's only one person I can think with a score to settle.”

“The Penguin,” Jim answered.

“Bring him in, I have a plan.”

It was not how he wanted to spend the morning.

 

* * *

 

Jim watched Oswald through the two-way glass. The Penguin's larger than life persona seemed to fill the interrogation room. He kept his hands held before him even though they were not handcuffed together, he had not been officially arrested.

“I want you in there when I question him,” the Batman told Jim.

“This is your show,” he shoved the photographs the vigilante had asked for at him. “For the record, I don't like this.” The Batman had not told him why he had needed photographs of the murdered Riddler decoy, but he could guess. And he didn't like it. “I want no part of this.” But he wouldn't stop it.

“Jim, I'm sorry, but you know Cobblepot, the two of you have a history that I could never understand, you're the only one that can tell me if he's lying,” the Batman said. “I don't _want_ to do this, but I _have_ to do this.”

“You don't understand, he loves Nygma,” Jim sighed. “If Os-, if the Penguin had nothing to do with these murders, it's beyond cruel to show him these and let him believe they are of Riddler.”

James had his own nightmares of finding Oswald murdered.

“You have a duty, Commissioner. Somebody is murdering low level rogues and as of right now the Penguin is the number one suspect. I know you once considered Cobblepot a friend, Gordon. But you cannot allow your personal feelings to get in the way of your duty to the people of Gotham.”

Jim looked at the Batman. The cowl hid his features but he had the feeling he should know the man who wore it. The way he spoke of his past relationship with the Penguin, it had been almost like he had known him. He turned away, unlike most of Gotham he did not care who wore the mask. The Batman was more than man, he was the hero Gotham needed.

“You have fifteen minutes, Batman. I can give you no more.”

“I only need five,” the Batman opened the door to the interrogation room as though he were Jim’s superior, and maybe he all but was.

“Ah, the Batman _and_ Commissioner Gordon in the same place, guess the Tattler is wrong, Jim Gordon is _not_ the man under the mask,” Oswald chuckled. “And what can I do for you fine gentlemen today?”

The Penguin gave a good show of being the one in charge, but the way he picked at the nail of his thumb showed he was nervous. He wanted to be the one to hold Oswald’s hand, but this was hardly the time or place.

“What do you know about this, Penguin?” Batman tossed the photographs face down in front of Oswald, the top photo showed the decoy hanging from the lamppost.

Oswald looked down and flinched as though hit, he looked up at Jim. “Is this why you have brought me here, old friend?” he asked with a cruel twist to his thin mouth, and his blue eyes were colder than the iceberg centerpiece of his lounge. “Should I give my lawyer a ring?”

“Do you recognize the man in this photograph, Mr. Cobblepot?” the Batman asked.

“Edward Franklin Nygma, otherwise known as the Riddler,” he took out a cigarette from his pocket. “Mind if I smoke?” Smoking was against regulations, but it wasn't the only thing being done in there that was against regulations.

“You and Nygma were friends, isn't that so?” Batman continued.

“If you want to call it that,” Oswald laughed. “More often than not we were at each other's throats.” He took a drag of his cigarette and coughed. “Both figuratively and literally.”

“You visited Nygma on February 14th,” the Batman leaned over the table. “What was the purpose of the visit?”

“It was Valentine's Day,” Oswald leaned back and looked towards Jim. “I was feeling lonely, I'll let you draw your own conclusions.”

Jim looked away, he could draw his own conclusions alright.

“Surveillance tapes show a heated discussion occurred,” the vigilante said. “What did you and Riddler argue about?”

“What can I say, we can never agree which of us gets to top,” he winked his good eye at Jim. “Fighting is foreplay for the likes of us.”

Oswald was trying to get to him.

“You were Nygma's last visitor before his murder,” Batman took another photograph from the stack and showed it to Penguin. “Did you have this man killed, Penguin?”

“I did not!” Oswald abruptly stood and slammed his hands on the table. “And when I find the ones responsible for this, I will have them gutted and their intestines hung from lampposts!” Spit flew across the table. He put out his cigarette on the table.

The Batman stood back, a strange smirk on his face. “I think I'm done here.” He walked past Jim, nodded. “Penguin's all yours, Commissioner Gordon.” The door closed behind him, leaving Jim alone with Oswald.

“Os-,” Jim moved forward.

“You do not get to ‘Os’ me after this stunt, _Commissioner_ Gordon,” Oswald sat back down and flipped through the rest of the pictures. “I always thought I would go first of all of us, lung cancer, stroke, heart attack, maybe you were right, Jim. Perhaps I am a cockroach and I will survive Gotham herself.”

“Oswald, there's something I have to tell you, about Nygma-.”

“I only ask one thing, you will get them to release him into my care, you can do that much at least,” he placed the photographs face down. “He has no family but I. He will be put to rest in my family tomb.”

“There will be no need,” Jim told him. “Ed Nygma is currently in solitary confinement at Arkham Asylum.”

“What do you mean? Was this all some kind of prank? Ha ha April's Fool's Day! I would expect this from _Jeremiah_ but not you, Jim.” Oswald stood and threw the photos at him. “Did you and the Bat dress up a fun house dummy and take it's picture?”

“His name was Mark Stevens, he dressed as the Riddler for conventions and parties,” Jim picked up the pictures. “Somebody had him killed, the same someone has been killing small time rogues. And you were an obvious person of interest.”

“And did I pass your test, James?” Oswald slapped him across the face. “I assume I am free to go.”

The slap did not sting as much as his guilt. It was hardly the first time he had betrayed Oswald, but it might very well be the last.

“You are free to go.”

“Do not call me, do not text me,” Oswald poked him in the chest. “In fact delete my number. Good bye, Commissioner.” He slammed the door behind him.

Oswald had proven his innocence but Jim had lost him just the same.

 

* * *

 

Jim finally entered his office at the end of shift. It had been a long day, he just wanted to write up his report and go home, heat up the left over dinner that Barbara had left in the refrigerator for him, and go to bed.

He noticed someone had left his desk lamp on. And on his desk was another greeting card propped against his computer. The card had a jack in the box on the front and a green bowler hat with a question mark had been added on its head in crude paint, and the eyes had been crossed out in x's.

‘April Fool's Day’, the card read at the top.

He picked up the card and opened it, two pop-up jack in the boxes sprang out of the card kissing, and someone had pasted a picture of Oswald on one, himself on the other.

‘To 2 Fool's in Love,’ the inside read.

The photograph had been taken recently, he noticed. And it looked to have been taken on New Year's Eve, after the first card had been received. And right before the first murder. He dropped the card.

How could he have been so blind, the cards and murders were connected, and the murderer knew about him and Oswald. And their actions threatened to expose his secret. No one could find out. Batman could never find out. His daughter, Barbara, could never know that her father had been having a secret affair with the Kingpin Penguin!

Jim bent down, picked up the card and locked it in his drawer with the others.  

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And Jim proves once again that he is a bad boyfriend and a bad cop.. But hey at least he finally figured out the connection! 
> 
> Next chapter will focus more on Nygmobblepot and Edward. (btw Nygmobblepot is not canon in this fic) And Barbara Gordon will finally make an appearance (and yes, I went the Oracle route with her). 
> 
> Thank you for reading!!
> 
> Fyi - I will hopefully have the next chapter uploaded before the end of the month but updates might slow down in February because of other projects I want to work on too.

**Author's Note:**

> This fic will be one long beast of a fic that I will be updating for the next couple of months. 
> 
> Thank you for reading! This is a labor of love! If you wish please leave a comment!


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